“Despite its large size, there’s a hominess to it,” actress Patricia Heaton (with her husband, actor-producer-director David Hunt) says of the 1920s house, in Los Angeles’s Hancock Park area, that she and her husband share with their four sons.

“Despite its large size, there’s a hominess to it,” actress Patricia Heaton (with her husband, actor-producer-director David Hunt) says of the 1920s house, in Los Angeles’s Hancock Park area, that she and her husband share with their four sons.

“Despite its large size, there’s a hominess to it,” actress Patricia Heaton (with her husband, actor-producer-director David Hunt) says of the 1920s house, in Los Angeles’s Hancock Park area, that she and her husband share with their four sons.

This article originally appeared in the December 2009 issue of Architectural Digest

In America's collective psyche, actress Patricia Heaton could call only one place home: the cozy but modest Cape Cod she shared with her TV husband, Ray Romano, in the beloved and critically acclaimed sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond.

For nine seasons we watched her play the beleaguered Long Island housewife Debra Barone, nobly trying to maintain some semblance of order amid the daily havoc wreaked by a husband, three kids and several high-strung in-laws. She forever seemed to be in search of just a little peace and quiet. (In her new sitcom, The Middle, which debuted on ABC this fall, she plays the small-town matriarch of a family not without its own dramas.)

Interior designers Bebe Johnson and Ellen Geerer used warm tones but kept some of the living room’s original formality. The paintings above the Biedermeier chest are by Karolina Larusdottir.

It can be a bit strange, then, to walk into the actual house that the two-time Emmy winner shares in the Hancock Park neighborhood of Los Angeles with her husband, actor-producer-director David Hunt, and their four sons and see just how peaceful things are. There's nary a screaming father-in-law to be found—just the warm and welcoming feeling that naturally arises when a close-knit family has the perfect house in which to relax, play and grow closer.

Begun in the early 1920s, the 8,500-square-foot house designed by architect Elmer Grey was once the city residence of Merritt Adamson and his wife, Rhoda Rindge Adamson, whose Mediterranean-style beach estate in Malibu is on the National Register of Historic Places. The Hancock Park house shares with the Malibu house many details, in addition to its basic architectural style, most notably the liberal use of remarkable ceramic tiles from Malibu Potteries, established by Mrs. Adamson's mother, May Knight Rindge, in 1926 and, during its short run, an example of American tile-making art at its finest.

“We walked in and could tell that here was a piece of property that was more than just a home,” Heaton says of their first look at the house. “It was a piece of L.A. history. We could really see living there for a long time. I immediately started picturing my boys getting married in the backyard.”

Despite its esteemed pedigree, the house needed real attention. The couple's designers, Bebe Johnson and Ellen Geerer, had worked with them on two other residences; now they were enlisting them for a third. They all worked tirelessly to peel back the layers of ill-advised renovations that had taken place in the decades since the Adamsons sold it, and to restore its original character as faithfully as possible. Hunt, especially, relished bringing distinctive architectural elements back to life and creating copies of the original hardware, those details that tied it definitively to its historic sister property in Malibu.

The designers and their clients consulted contemporaneous sources—including a copy of a 1924 Architectural Digest article found hiding behind a shelf—to help guide them in their decision making. The water-damaged floor of the loggia, a masterpiece of Malibu Potteries tile, was painstakingly restored. Rather than cutting into the library's original cabinetry to install new lighting, the four agreed that lamps, a candle lantern and the fireplace could get the job done.

One space, however, required modern triage. “In the early teens and '20s, houses like this were built for formal entertaining, and the servants were all over on one side of the house, usually next to the kitchen,” says Heaton. “Obviously, our needs and lifestyles today are very different, and the kitchen has become the family gathering place. So we blew out the maid's quarters in the back of the kitchen and made it into a sort of family room/kitchen/great room.”

Outdoor spaces are designed to allow the couple's four sons to play freely—except for one oasis where soccer balls dare not roll. On the northern side of the property, an idyllic parterre overflows with roses and citrus. Benches and a burbling fountain make this an ideal spot for reflection and quietude. “I love getting out there and clipping roses to take to friends,” says Heaton, “or taking a few oranges for juice in the morning. Or just going back there, even if it's only for a few minutes, and relaxing.”

Thanks to syndication, poor Debra Barone will likely forever be searching for just a little peace and quiet. Patricia Heaton, on the other hand, need only step outside.

FOLLOW US

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our User Agreement (effective 1/2/2014) and Privacy Policy (effective 1/2/2014). Architectural Digest may earn a portion of sales from products that are purchased through our site as part of our Affiliate Partnerships with retailers. Your California Privacy Rights (effective 1/2/2014). The material on this site may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used, except with prior written permission of Condé Nast.